No niño Luc, c’est ne pas un Chubasco*
and please relay to the Siren next to you
that öüï don’t like crowds anygüey. So enjoy your already F.U.L.L. gig.
—In the never once spoken fake words of Mortemier Snerd, “who’d a thunk it,” Lorne Ü Rascal figured out what caused the big ol’thud on an Ethiopian runway.
Preliminary educated guesses from the big Kat over at the National Transportation Authority points to the very laid-back and at times even LAX conditions in which the Operational Training and re-certification test were handed out and/or conducted.
For starters, the “training”, if one can refer to the 🛬powerpoint🥜presentations as that, as training, considering that the cargo involved merited only a fucking iPad™️ and a powerslide presentation.
Heck, the Airline industry, according to Michael Che, is stratospherically stricter when it comes to the training and “husband-release” agreements for its air-hostesses fleet of First-Class bunnies. And that is probably because the so-called “Mile-High Club” has a reputation and a L.E.G.A.C.Y. to uphold. Pilots take that training very, very seriously ensuring every First-Class bunny is up to Jacques Cousteau standards.